that rushing noise in the distance? No, there was no rushing . . . Yes, there was: something came rushing, from outside, to where he stood; something came rushing: a melancholy wind, like a wind out of eternity. . . . An immense eternity; and immense the wind that rushed out of it; and chilly and small and dreary the house; everything so small; he himself so small! . . . He did not know what was coming over him, but he felt frightened . . . frightened, as he had sometimes felt when a child. . . . He was so afraid of that rushing sound that he called out:
"Adeline! . . . Line! . . ."
He waited for her to hear and answer. But she did not hear, she slept. . . . Then he roamed on, shuddering . . . upstairs . . . to his own little room. . . . And it was all so dreary and chill and lonely and the sound of rushing from the immense eternity outside the house was so melancholy that he sank helplessly into a chair and began to sob. . . . He was done for now. . . . He sobbed. . . . His great, emaciated body jolted up and down with his sobs; his lungs panted with his sobs; and, in his great, lean hands, his head sobbed, in despair. . . .
He was done for now. . . . He knew now that he would not get well. . . . He knew now that he ought really to have died . . . and that he had gone on living only because his life had gone on hanging to a thread that had not broken. Would
